And Miles To Go Before I Sleep
by RocketScience
Summary: A speculation of how the major characters would react to Bud’s injury.


Title:  "And Miles to Go Before I Sleep"

Author: RocketScience@aol.com

Rating:  PG, for language

Summary:  A speculation of how the major characters would react to Bud's injury.

Spoilers:  Everything, and I do mean everything.

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine.  I've got enough characters in my house, so I'm just borrowing them for playtime.

Author's Note:  Sorry Mac fans, I just had to torment her once again.  J

This one is for Vivienne, who relentlessly bugs me to write.  The title is from a Robert Frost poem entitled, "The Road Not Taken."

The Commander had just exited the de-briefing room after his latest adventure with the dirty bomb and the Colonel was waiting for him with a report in her hand.   "Commander Rabb," someone called from inside the briefing room.

Harm was already perusing the report and was in the middle of giving the Colonel grief about the quick preparation.  "What did you do, Mac?  Write while you were on the bridge?"

Mac started to reply when Harm held up a finger and turned back to the debriefing room.  "Yes?"  

"The XO requires either you or Colonel Mackenzie's signature on a report, ASAP" the voice relayed the message.

Mac entered Harm's line of sight and the infamous wordless communication commenced.  If it were verbalized, it would be spoken with a light tone of humor, each accusing the other of not crossing the t's and dotting the i's, while denying that he or she had been the culprit in the first place.  

Mac replied to the message, "Understood.  Please relay that we are on our way to his office."

"We!?!"  Harm exclaimed.

"You are not allowed out of my sight until you read and sign that report, Flyboy.  And for your information, I did not work on it while I was on the bridge, I worked on it while you were in pre-flight, while you were waiting to launch and after the mission was over and you were in line for recovery. All together, about 4 hours."  Mac concluded as they made their way through the labyrinth of the carrier, with Harm in the lead.

She continued as they wound up the stairs to the XO's office.  "And you can get us to the XO's office faster than I could do it myself."  

Harm grimaced.  "I'm only objecting to the "we" part because I still reek of jet fuel, sweat and a few other malodorous things.  I need a shower."

Mac reached forward and grabbed his arm.  "Hold a second, here."  She sniffed at him, imitating a dog.  "You smell like a human being who has been working hard."

"I smell like I've been ridden hard and put away wet," he continued to complain.

"Do you think that I can't handle a little "manly odor"?  Lord, have you ever been in the field with Marines?" she teased him.

"I'm just trying to stay out of trouble," he mimicked a whiny little boy.  

They climbed to the top of the stairs, but Mac had reached the landing first and turned suddenly back to Harm.  By standing on the higher step, they were very close to being at eye level.  Mac whispered to him, "Actually, I like both the natural cologne you are currently wearing and the other aftershave you use too.  Shut up about the stink, before I remember how much fun riding hard and being put away wet can be."

She flew through bulkhead door, leaving Harm behind.  He wasn't moving at all, just digesting the suggestion she had just dropped in his lap.  Deciding to file it away for future use, he stepped over the knee knocker and dogged the door closed behind him.  

"Well......" he drawled out.  "We could discuss traffic lights at this point."

"How about we discuss job satisfaction?" she countered, lighthearted.

"That would depend on the parameters of the job,"  he replied.  "Besides, the working parts haven't been properly lubricated for more than 14 months, so at least one machine would need some maintenance to get it up to the task required."

"Most mechanics use some sort of minimal periodic maintenance.  Usually artificial though and it doesn't quite address the scope of the larger picture,"  she parried back.

Harm shook his head and laughed quietly, "Colonel, this discussion on 'periodic and preventive maintenance' will have to be a topic of discussion during our next working dinner."  He indicated the door to the XO's office.

They knocked and received an invitation to enter.  The XO was in the midst of preparing the "after-action" paperwork.  Both JAG officers sat in the proffered chairs.

"Oh, good. You are both here.  That will let me get several tasks done at the same time.  Here is the C and C report that needs a signature of a JAG, O-4 or greater, that acknowledges receipt of a report about a staff officer in the JAG corp being listed on the C and C." The XO was handing papers to them as he spoke.  "This next one is a priority authorization to BUPERS for an emergency replacement of a staff JAG assigned to a combat ship in a time of war.  Also needs an O-4 signature.  And finally, a request from the captain to have the family notification completed by a member of the JAG corp, as opposed to the normal notification due to the circumstances surrounding the injured officer."

Mac and Harm looked at the XO with puzzlement.  Mac spoke first.  "Commander, you realize that we don't usually handle routine ship paperwork while we are serving in our current capacity.  Your ship JAG is well acquainted with the necessary routines and paperwork needed in after-action reports. In fact, we trained him to do it."

The XO looked up from the paper whirlwind on his desk.  Softening his tone, he inquired, "Have you read the names on the C and C report?"

Harm read over Mac's shoulder.  In her ear, he softly directed her to the bottom of the page. "Lieutenant Bud Roberts." His date of birth and serial number followed the name.

Harm continued to stare at the report.  Mac recovered first.  "What is his condition, Commander?"  The cross-examination of a hostile witness had commenced.

The XO winced slightly and flicked through a few more papers, pulling out another one.  "This one is a few hours old, but it seems that the Lieutenant stepped on a land mine and has sustained life-threatening injuries. He was put on a med-evac flight for the nearest critical care facility and was due to go into surgery upon arrival."

The ambush arrived from the other side. "And what was his mission ?"  

"Why was he unaccompanied by field units?"

"Whose responsibility was it to inform one of us that we were to assume the on-site JAG officer's duties?"

"Has communication with THE JAG, Admiral Chegwidden. been established?  If so, when?  What orders did he give?"

0356 Local

McLean, Virginia

"Chegwidden."  The Admiral commanded into the phone.

"Admiral, it's Colonel Mackenzie."  

The Admiral sat straight up in his bed, ignoring the tangle of sheets.

"Go ahead," he said.

"I'm calling from the Seahawk, Sir.  There has been an incident with Lieutenant Roberts."  Mac was giving him the information in small pieces, knowing he had just woken up.

It was bad news, the Admiral didn't get calls in the middle of the night at his residence from the JAG Chief of Staff if it was anything that could be dealt with in the light of the day.

"How bad?"

"He stepped on a land mine, while he was in-country.  The latest information we have is that he was airlifted in critical condition to a field hospital in Saudi Arabia."

"Jesus Christ! What the hell was he doing in-country! He's a ship based JAG!  

Mac, find out what his condition is!"  he raged, swinging his feet over to the floor.

"Yes, Sir.  I've got Commanders Rabb and Turner virtually interrogating his Jagman, as well as the medical flight crew.  We do know that a casualty report has been generated, and a BUPERS request for a replacement has been forwarded.   At this point, our biggest concern after Bud's health is the notification for Harriet."  Mac continued.

"I'll take care of it, personally."  The Admiral promised.  "I don't want her to hear of this from a total stranger."

"One moment, Sir.  Commander Rabb has information about Bud's condition.  He's getting on the line now." Mac added.

Harm settled the headphones comfortably.  "Sir, Commander Rabb here.  I've just spoken to the base hospital in Saudi.  Lt. Roberts was taken into surgery three hours ago for an amputated right lower leg, and unspecified injuries to the chest.  His condition is rated as critical.  There is no other information available at this time." Harm sounded frustrated.

"I understand, Commander." The Admiral paused. "Okay, people. Here is the plan." 

"Rabb, you get on a plane to Ramstein.  I will be putting Harriet on the first plane I can.  Meet her, get her oriented and focused on Bud's recovery.  Mac, you get to the hospital in Saudi and get Bud out to Ram as soon as medically feasible.  Charge the miles or travel arrangements to JAG HQ.  Have either of you seen Commander Turner?"

"I have, Sir.  He is in the ship JAG office, getting things coordinated to maintain smooth operations." Rabb chimed in.

"Excellent.  Any questions?"

"No, Sir."  Harm and Mac chorused.

"Good.  I'll send the new orders in about an hour.  Carry on."  Chegwidden hung up the phone.

Dropping his face in his hands, he scrubbed back and forth in a futile effort to erase the phone call from reality.  Facing the facts, he stood and dressed in his everyday whites.

0637 Local

Home of Bud Roberts and Harriet Sims-Roberts

Harriet collapsed on the living room floor.  Stretching her heated muscles, she looked for the remote control to turn off the advanced kickboxing/aerobic workout videotape.  Spying it under the coffee table, she clicked the annoying instructor to mute.  That accomplished, she reached for her towel and water bottle.  Walking back to AJ's bedroom, she kissed the warm cheek waking the 3-year-old up slowly.  

"Morning, baby boy!"  she whispered.

"I not baby, I AJ."  The little boy opened his eyes and smiled at his mommy.

"I know, AJ.  I just like calling you my baby boy."  Harriet teased.

"I  thirsty, momma."  AJ sat up.

"Come on.  Let's get some juice before we get ready to go."  Harriet opened her arms for AJ.   Holding him on her hip, like a much younger child, she navigated to the refrigerator and handed him the child cup of juice she had prepared the night before.  Hearing a strong knock on the door, she frowned and continued walking with AJ on her hip to the door.  

Looking out the peephole, she saw the Admiral, her CO at the front door.  Holding AJ even closer, she opened the locks and swung the door open.  

"Admiral."

"Lieutenant."

"May I come in?"

"Yes, Sir," Standing to the side, Harriet invited the Admiral into the living room.  She let go of AJ, whispering in his ear telling him to get dressed.  

Harriet followed Admiral Chegwidden and sat down on the opposite couch.  She waited for him to speak.

"Lieutenant Sims.  I have some bad news."  He stopped.

"Go on, Sir."  Harriet's face had lost its ruddy color from the workout.

Taking a deep breath, he continued. "Bud has been hurt.  From what we know he has been taken to surgery in Saudi Arabia."

"Okay."  Harriet waited.

An awkward moment passed.

"Lieutenant.  I can arrange for you to meet Bud as soon as he is able to travel."  The Admiral offered.  "Actually, I had thoughts of sending you to Ramstein today."

"I can be ready in 1 hour, Sir."  Harriet automatically responded.

"Anything I can help you with?" the Admiral offered, knowing that Harriet didn't go out of town often and might need assistance.

"Permission to be excused, Sir?"  she asked.

"Carry on."  The Admiral was astonished.  He had expected histronics, more questions than he had answers for, but not this……..robot.

Harriet walked to the kitchen and began making eggs for breakfast.  Quickly preparing her breakfast and little AJ's, she picked up the phone and hit speed dial #2.  

"Monica, it's Harriet.  I need to go out-of-town for a week or so.  Are you available?"  A pause.   "I'll drop him off, is 30 minutes ok?"  Another pause.  "I'll update you when I know more."

She hung up the phone and peered into the living room, where the Admiral still sat, and asked, "Would like some eggs, Sir?  I need to use them up."

"No, thank you.  I'm not hungry."  The Admiral replied.

And true to her word, 30 minutes later, Harriet was dressed in her officer's everyday khaki uniform, her travel bag was sitting beside the front door and AJ was trying to get his shoes on the right foot.

"Momma" he wailed in frustration.  "My feet don't fit."

Harriet sat down on the floor, taking AJ's feet in her hands.  "Well, pumpkin, the shoes need to match the feet, like this."  She corrected the shoe problem and kept his feet in her hands.

"AJ, Momma needs to do some work for the Admiral.  I'm not going to be home for a few nights, so you will be staying with Monica."  Harriet quietly explained.

AJ was quiet for a moment.  "Michael at Monica's too?"  he asked.

"Yes, Michael is at Monica's," she replied.

AJ's face had a huge grin.  "Cool,  I get to have my very own brother!"  

Harriet swallowed the lump in her throat.  "I will be calling you and making sure you behave, AJ Roberts."

"Ok, Momma.  I will be a good boy."  He paused and turned to the Admiral.  "Mr. Admiral, Sir, may I ask you a question?"  

Admiral Chegwidden hunkered down to AJ's eye level.  "Sure."

"Will you tell my Auntie Mac and my Unca Harm where Monica's house is?  Unca Harm brings me toys and plays plane with me on Saturdays and Auntie Mac takes me out to eat on Wednesdays."  He explained seriously.

"Yes, I will when I talk to them again."  The Admiral promised.

"Ok, Mommy.  Let's go."  Little AJ was satisfied.

They proceeded out the front door, with Harriet carefully locking the door behind her.  The Admiral had already decided to drive Harriet and AJ, so she wouldn't have to worry about parking her car at the airport.  They dropped AJ at Monica's house, with just a quick kiss and hug goodbye.

During the ride to Andrews AFB, the Admiral gave in to his curiosity.  "Are you ok, Lieutenant?"

"So, far, yes, Sir.  I least I think so, Sir."  Harriet started to doubt.

"Who is Monica, if you don't mind my asking?"  he inquired, changing the subject.

"A fellow Navy and Navy wife.  Monica has reserved her commission to raise her children.  Her husband is also on a carrier, but deployed in a different battle group than Bud's.  She has a son who is only 3 months younger than AJ and we trade child care back and forth as necessary.  Last month, she was recalled for 3 weeks to the West Coast.  She is a personnel specialist, working with battle groups. She makes sure they have all the personnel and supplies as they deploy."

The Admiral grunted.  "Not an easy job in today's Navy."

"No, Sir.  It's not.  But she is very good at juggling priorities, looking at the small details and keeping the big picture in focus."  Harriet continued.

"I know someone like that, too." He commented.  "She runs my JAG office."

"Yes, Sir. Colonel Mackenzie is an officer that anyone would want to work with."  Harriet commented.

"Lieutenant.  I was speaking about you."  He growled.

"Oh. Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."  Harriet decided to shut up after that.

Not much later, the Admiral cleared through the security at Andrews and pulled up  to the personnel flight terminal.  "Let's go, Lieutenant."

As he walked to the desk, he dismissed the personnel coming to attention on his behalf.  The desk clerk was a young Ensign, fastidiously checking orders against manifests against identification.

"Good morning, Ensign Murchison."

"Good morning, Admiral, Sir."  The Ensign stammered.

"I need to have my JAG office manager at Ramstein AFB, by tomorrow morning – their time."

The Ensign checked his computer.  "I have a flight leaving for Ramstein in one hour.  Can your officer be at the gate at that time?"

"Yes, Ensign.  She is right here."  The Admiral motioned Harriet to the desk.

"Your orders please, Lieutantant."  The Ensign asked.

Harriet turned to the Admiral.  "Sir, we didn't cut orders from the office for me."

"Not a problem."  Pulling out his cell phone, he called Tiner.  "Petty Officer Tiner, prepare travel orders for Lieutenant Sims to Ramstein AFB, return date in 10 days, tasking to interface and liason with traveling JAG staff.  Fax all 7 copies to the Andrews flight booking desk, in not more than 10 minutes.  I'll sign them here."  Folding the phone closed, he looked around, muttering, "I know there is coffee here somewhere."

The Ensign picked up the telephone and summoned a Petty Officer from the back room, directing her to escort the Admiral and Lieutenant to the flag officer's waiting room.  "I'll send a runner when the orders come through, Sir."

0637 Local

Ramstein AFB

The Commander unfolded himself from the waiting room seats and stretched.  The Petty Officer who was in charge of the gate had just gently woken him from a light snooze.  "Sir, the flight from Andrews has landed and is on the taxiway.  It should be at the jet way in a few moments."

Harm nodded an acknowledgement.  Turning to the windows to watch the plane, he pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial button for Mac.

"Colonel Mackenzie," she answered.

"Hey, it's me.  What's going on?"  he asked quietly.

"We're supposed to land in a few more hours.  Bud is holding his own, but he will need some reconstructive surgery in the next 2 days.   They just did some basic repair work and will assess the damage to the nerves, muscles and bones in another 24 hours.  The doctors I spoke with indicated that his knee may or may not be recoverable for a prosthesis.  The chest wounds we heard about were relatively superficial, requiring about 50 stitches altogether.  He was conscious after the initial surgery, but then they packed him full of painkillers for this flight."  Mac struggled to give him just the facts.

"Harriet is getting off of the plane as we speak."  Harm said.

"Will you make sure the arrangements for immediate transport to the base hospital are complete?"  Mac asked.

"Sure," Harm said, still quiet.

"Hey, flyboy.  What's wrong?"  she had caught the hesitation in his voice.

"A little too much deja-vu.  I've made the same flight you are on, with the same destination.   I'm not looking forward to being in that hospital again."  He said sadly.

"Oh, damn.  I forgot you were deployed in the Gulf for that first ramp strike.  Hey, I'll be there in a few more hours and we'll make sure you don't have too many deja-vu moments."  She promised.

"I'd appreciate that.  Keep me updated."  Harm ended the call as Lieutenant Sims approached.

"Commander Rabb, Sir.  I hadn't expected you to be here."  She exclaimed.  "Do you know your way around here?"  

Rabb tried to smile, but managed only a grimace.  "You could say that."  Walking towards the motor pool, he instructed the Lieutenant, "Let's get you checked into the VOQ."

There was a small hassle at the VOQ about the availability of a private female room for a Lieutenant.  A quick phone call to JAG HQ by Commander Rabb fixed the situation with little trouble.  Harriet quickly settled into the room and met Commander Rabb outside the front door.

"So, Sir. What do you need me to do?"  Harriet chirped.  "But if you don't mind my observation, you look like hell, Sir."

Harm pulled off his stereotypical aviator sunglasses and stared incredulously at Harriet.  

"What did the Admiral tell you?"  he demanded.

"Just that Bud was hurt and you, the Colonel and Commander Turner needed my assistance." She summarized.

"How badly did the Admiral say he was injured?"  Harm inquired.

Harriet paused for a moment.  "Actually, Sir.  He didn't say.  I assume it is only a broken bone or something and with the events of the last several days, Bud isn't available to help you with the follow-up, so he sent me here to help get the JAG staff in the field back into the office."

"Let's go over to the local JAG offices.  We need a private place to talk."  He ordered.

The Commander was able to secure an unused office at the local JAG office.  Inviting Harriet in, he pulled out a chair and sat down beside her.  "Harriet, in here there is no rank.  I am only a concerned friend and the godfather to your son." He paused, reaching for her left hand and giving time for Harriet to acknowledge his statement.

He continued, "Harriet, Bud was seriously injured yesterday morning.  He was in-country and was inspecting the rebuilding of a mistakenly destroyed school when he stepped on a land mine."

Tears slipped down Harriet's face, in large quantities.   Drawing a deep breath, she whispered, "How badly was he injured?"

Harm paused again, gathering his strength.  "His right leg was amputated, but the knee may or may not be salvageable."

"Oh dear God."  Harriet sobbed quietly.

Harm handed her a handkerchief, and allowed her a few more moments to process what he had said.

When she was ready, she lifted her face up, "Where is he now? When can I see him?  Were there any other injuries?"

Harm gripped her hand tighter.  "He is on a med-evac flight with Mac right now.  I talked to her as your plane landed and she indicated they would arrive in an hour from now.  She and I have made arrangements for Bud's rehabilitation to begin immediately and we will make arrangements to have him transferred to Bethesda as soon as medically possible.  He will need another surgery to prepare his leg for a prosthesis.  He also has about 50 stitches in the chest area from the nicks and cuts from the shrapnel."

Harriet continued to wipe the tears from her face.  Taking several deep breaths, she got herself back under control and put on her best officer's face.   "So, what needs to be done around here?"

Ninety minutes later, still in the borrowed office, his cell phone rang.  "Commander Rabb," he barked into the phone, juggling it while typing on his laptop.  Upon hearing the voice, he paused and listened.  "We'll be right over."

Shutting down the laptop, he caught a glimpse of Harriet's face as she looked up from assembling a file.  "Bud and Mac are at the hospital."   Harriet nodded an acknowledgment and continued her work.

"Lieutenant."  

"Yes, Sir."

"The paperwork can wait.  People are more important right now." He ordered.

"Yes, Sir." She closed the file and remained in her chair.

Harm stood and held her cover out to her.  "Let's go." He said compassionately.

"Yes, Sir."

They made their way across the base to the hospital.  Turning the ignition off, Harm didn't look at Harriet.  "I'm not all that excited about going in there either, Harriet.  After my almost-fatal ramp strike I ended up at this very hospital for 4 weeks, in complete traction.  I was told that there was a possibility I would never fly again by a complete stranger.  Please remember that you have the three of us to support you when the going gets rough."

"Yes, Sir."  Harriet didn't trust herself to say anything else.

A few moments later, Harm had located both Mac herself and Bud's room. Mac was standing in the visitor's lounge sipping a cup of coffee.  As she saw the two officers, she set it down on a table and went to Harriet.

Harriet came to attention.  "Colonel." She said formally.

"At ease, Lieutenant."  Seeing the torment in Harriet's eyes, she moved over and placed her hands on Harriet's upper arms.  

"He's coming out from under the sedation.  The doctors were doing another evaluation and asked me to step out.  Harriet,"  Mac paused.  "He doesn't know yet."

The younger officer could only nod.  

Mac dropped her left arm and propelled both of them towards Bud's room.  "Let's get the doctors together and get an update."

The doctors met them at the door, an orthopedic specialist, a managing physician, and the head nurse of the floor.   The group ended up in the lounge again.

"First of all, we need to know who has the authorization to make decisions for Lieutenant Roberts' care," they addressed Mac as she was the one who had accompanied Bud on the flight.

"That would be me."  Harriet spoke.  "I am his wife."

Mac passed over the paperwork that confirmed Harriet's authorization. She had the originals that were on file from the carrier.  Harm was impressed that she had been well-organized to get them before jumping the COD to Saudi Arabia.  

The doctors continued their update.  "Mr. Roberts will remain listed in critical condition for the time being.  He has suffered extreme trauma to his right lower leg, and due to the extent of this injury, the blood loss, the additional secondary wounds to the chest, and the field conditions, the risk of infection is very high.  Anyone entering the room will be asked to scrub their hands thoroughly and to wear a protective gown.  We will be watching him closely for any signs of infection for the next 48 hours.  If he is able to remain infection-free for that time span, then we will secure permission at that time to begin reconstructive surgery on the remaining portions of the right leg, with the ultimate goal of fitting Mr. Roberts with a prosthetic leg."

Harriet absorbed all of this information and asked only one question.  "When can I see him?"

1037 Local

Ramstein AFB, Base Hospital

Room 316

Mac finished scrubbing her hands and rinsed them carefully.  The nurse helped her with the gown and then turned to assist the Commander.  The nurse was blond and exactly the type of woman he had dated in the past.  "Sir, if you could bend at the knees a bit, I'll be able to tie you up."  Hearing the innuendo in her comment, Mac turned to dress her down.  The nurse had the good grace to look embarrassed and flushed red.

"That's okay, Ensign Buffen."  He obliged to her request.

Mac and Harm entered the room to see Harriet perched on Bud's bed, holding his hand and speaking to him softly, stroking his face, even though he wasn't fully awake.  They stood awkwardly to the side and end of the bed. 

Thirty minutes later, his eyelids fluttered.  Harriet reached over and held a cup of mostly melted ice chips that had been left by the nurses for when Bud woke up.  Harriet took the plastic spoon and held a few chips to his lips.  "Open your mouth."  She instructed quietly.

Bud took the chips and relaxed against the pillow again.  Five minutes later, she coaxed more ice chips into him.  For another 30 minutes, she murmured and coaxed him to consciousness.  His eyes opened and he focused on her.

"Hi, sweetie." His voice was a gravelly whisper.

"Hi yourself." Harriet smiled gently.

"You look an awful lot like my wife," he croaked.

She reached over and kissed him on the lips.  "Now what do you think?"

Bud was quiet for a long moment.  "I think that something must be really bad for you to be here, wherever here is."

"We're at the Ramstein Base Hospital."  She replied, tears starting to flow.

"Sweetie.  It will be okay.  Whatever it is."  Bud tried to reassure her.

"Yes, it will."  She promised.

"So, are you going to tell me why you are crying and I'm flat on my back in a hospital bed?"  he prompted.

Harriet shook her head back and forth and looked to the other two officers standing around the bed, pleading silently for them to say the words that would become reality.

Harm and Mac looked at each other and silently agreed that Harm would break the news.

"Bud."  He stopped, clearing his throat.  

"Commander Rabb?  Did you get the dirty nuke?"  Bud asked, confused about the time frame.

"Yes, I did.  But….Bud.  Do you remember how you were hurt?"

"Not at the moment.  But I'm sure someone will tell me, eventually."  He said.

"You stepped on a land mine, and your right leg has been damaged."  Harm managed to say.

"That's what is hurting."  Bud observed.  "But if I'm already at Ramstein, that means they will be ready to take the cast off and get to the rehab work pretty soon."  He relaxed into the pillows again.

Harm shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bud.  It's more complicated than that.  Your right leg was amputated by the force of the explosion."

Bud suddenly sat as upright as he could.  Staring at the empty space that should have been the lower portion of his leg, he was incredulous for many minutes.  Giving into the exhaustion of sitting so suddenly, he collapsed against Harriet.  Her arms automatically went around him.  Rocking him back and forth, she comforted both of them.  After a time, she eased him back onto the pillows and continued to hold his hand.

"Oh, God. Harriet.  What do we do now?"  Bud's voice was despondent.

"We heal, Bud.  That's all we can do."  Harriet replied.

"Will I be able to walk again?"  he insisted.

"The doctors will look at your leg tomorrow to find out how much damage was done."  She said.

"How much damage???  I blew the damn thing off!"  Bud tried to yell, but croaked instead.

"No, sweetie.  Your knee is still mostly intact.  But it has to heal correctly and you have to fight off any infections."  Harriet started to calm him down by stroking the side of his head again.

"What a nightmare." Bud groaned.

"Yes, sweetie, it is.  But we've been through these things before.  We'll get through this one too."  Harriet whispered, bringing her lips to his forehead.

"I'm so tired."  Bud whined.

"I know, Bud….I know.  Get some sleep.  The most important thing you can do right now is rest and fight any infections."  She straightened up, yawning.

"Hey," Bud grabbed her hand.  "How did you get here anyway?"

"The Admiral put me on a plane and Commander Rabb got me from the airfield to here."  She explained.

"Where's little AJ?"  Bud mumbled, starting to succumb to sleep.

"He's with Monica."  She replied.

Bud's eyelids fluttered shut.  "Sleep with me?"  he asked his wife.

Harriet smiled through her tears.  "There no place I'd rather be."  Kicking off her shoes, she carefully turned on her right side, cuddling up next to Bud.  Nestling her head against his, she draped her left arm carefully across his chest and shoulder.  Letting her eyes close, she drifted into sleep herself.

Harm watched the scene with something close to awe.  He had never before been privy to "pillow talk" between a married couple, especially at this time of crisis.   At a loss of what to do next, he grabbed a light blanket from the other bed and stood helplessly with it in his hands.

Mac's voice broke through his warring conscience.  "May I have the blanket?"

Wordlessly, he offered it to her.  She gently tucked the blanket around Harriet and put the bar on the bed back up.   Blindly, she turned to exit the room, leaving Harm behind.

2137 Local

Officer's Club

Mac sat rigidly at a table, a drink in front of her.  She had been there for two hours already and the drink had not yet been touched.  Her eyes fixated off in space, hands folded around the warming drink.  The other occupants of the bar left her alone, after the Marine Lieutenant Colonel had rebuffed all advances of the single officers to engage her in flirting and conversation.   She had turned her cell phone to vibrate and had left it in her purse, which was draped over the back of the chair.  

Harm entered the O-Club, intending to shoot a little pool and get his mind off of Bud Roberts.  A beer even appealed to him, he was technically off-duty.  He was a little ticked with Mac too, as she gave him the slip earlier that day at the hospital.  In fact, the more he ruminated about it, the more angry he became.  "She promised to at least be around, while we were here." He thought to himself.   Pulling up a bar stool, he ordered a beer and tuned himself to listen to the local scuttlebutt.

"Damn, she's beautiful."  A Marine Major commented a few seats over from Harm.

"Yes, but if that isn't a 'Do Not Disturb' sign, then I don't know what is", his companion commented.

"Besides," the first one commented, "She's out of my class.  She's oak leaves, but I didn't catch silver or gold."

Harm turned his head to nonchalantly observe the subject the two of them were discussing.  He didn't immediately see whom they were speaking of, but continued scanning, becoming interested in the conversation for the lack of anything else to do.

His beer arrived and as he pulled out his wallet to pay for the drink, he saw the object of their discussion.

"Shit, damn, hell." He said out loud, drawing the attention of the two Marines.  

"Yes, Sir.  That's what we thought when saw the oak leaves."  The Marines were somewhat friendly to the Navy Commander.

Harm mostly ignored them.  "Hey, I want to send a drink to the lady colonel."  He told the barkeep.

"She's not accepting drinks tonight, Sir."  The barkeep replied.

"What is that drink in front of her?"  Harm asked, with his heart pounding.

"Vodka tonic."  The Bartender replied.  "She's been the recipient of at least 10 other drinks in the last several hours, but turns all of them away."

"Several hours?"  Harm inquired.

"Yes, Sir.  She's been here quite some time.  Getting a lot of attention too."  

"Set me up with an ice water.  Send her a tonic water with a twist of lime, light on the ice.  Please make sure she knows what is in the drink."  He ordered.  "When you serve it, tell her that is from Flyboy."

"And if she refuses?"  the Barkeeper insisted.

"She won't."  Harm paid for his beer and Mac's drink.

The marines to his side immediately placed a friendly bet that she would refuse the drink.  

A few moments later, the bartender set Harm's water next to the untouched beer.  Harm turned to watch the bar waitress serve the tonic and lime to Mac.

Mac did not look up as the waitress approached yet again.  "Ma'am, a Flyboy bought this for you.  It's a tonic water with a twist of lime."

Mac nodded an acknowledgement.  "Leave it." She ordered.

The waitress set the fresh drink down and asked, "May I take this other one?"  

"Not yet.  Um, could you do me a favor?"  Mac requested.

The waitress made her way over to Harm.  "The Colonel said that you could join her, if you knew her nickname."

Harm picked up his glass of ice water, ignoring the beer.  Leaning forward, he whispered the nickname in her ear.

The waitress smiled broadly.  "That would be correct, Sir.  Enjoy your evening."

Harm made his way over to Mac and sat in the chair to her side.

"This isn't good, Marine," he observed.

"An astute observation, Navy."  She shot back, still looking at the drink.

He placed his hand on her back, right over the shoulder blade, caressing gently.

"What can I do to help?"  he asked.

"I think I need to get out of here, but I really, really want to drink this vodka tonic."  Mac answered.

Harm hesitated, just a second, then plunged ahead.  "What is bothering you ?"  

"It's stupid."  Mac said to her drink.

"It must be a big deal."  Harm said.

"It's not."  She replied.

"So, tell me then."  He countered.

"Not here." She said.

"Then where?"  He pushed.

"Not a damn ferry, that's for sure." She argued.

"Ok, how about the VOQ?" he suggested.  

"Oh, God. Way too many ears."  She shivered.  "Besides, they are out of rooms."

"That rules out the waiting room at the hospital too."  He pushed some more.

"Yes."  Mac's voice was distant, preoccupied.

"So where did you get a room at?"  Harm asked.

"Local hotel, off-base." She looked away from the drink, finally.

"Can we go there?"  Harm queried.

"I suppose."  Was her unenthusiastic reply.

"You walking out of here on your own power, or do I have to carry you?"  Harm demanded.

"Walking, under my own power, thank you." Mac rudely replied.

Harm dropped his hand from her shoulder and stood up.  "Well, then Marine, get your ass in gear."  

She let go of the drink and started to scoot back.

"Harm, I can't."  she paused.  "I need that drink."

Harm leaned down to her ear, whispering, "Being in my arms is better than a damn drink any day."

Mac didn't move.  "What are you offering me?  A quickie?"

"No, Ma'am. We've been through this territory before."  Harm countered.  "I am offering the warmth of the arms of someone who cares about you, the serenity of being with your best friend and the understanding of why you are sitting here, without any, and I do mean any, accusations of weakness."  He finished the sentence, still bent to her ear.

He held out his hand, for her to take.

"A lifeline."  He offered.

Mac grasped his hand and rose from her chair.  "Get me out of here."

Harm pivoted them towards the front door, and wrapped a protective arm across her back.

"March." He ordered.

She sighed as they made their way out to his rental car.  "That undercover gunnery sergeant gig made you think you are some kind of Marine."  

Once in the car, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

"Not especially."  She replied.

Arriving after a silent drive at her hotel, he parked the car and they both sat in the car looking at each other.  "Awkward moment, number 318."

"No, just thankful that we were able to communicate back there in the O-Club."  He said.

Mac flopped her head against the headrest.  "It really is stupid.  And for some reason, I can't yet put it in words."

"Let's get out of military officer mode and connect as friends," he suggested.  "It might make the difference."

"I need a long soak in the tub.  Maybe that will clear my head."  She said.

Harm took the hint, that she needed some time to herself.  "I'll head to the hospital for a while and check on Bud and Harriett, while you soak."

Mac dug in her purse for the room key and passed the duplicate over to Harm.  As she turned towards him, she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.  "You are a good man,  Flyboy."

He grabbed at her, managing to hold her for a short minute.  "Need help getting up the stairs?"  he inquired.

"No, I'll be okay.  I know you are coming back to check on me."  She replied.

He returned her kiss, but a quick one on the lips this time.  "I promise."

2356 Local

Mac's Hotel Room

Harm let himself into her room, praying that she kept a hold on her self-control and didn't take a detour into the mini-bar or the local store.   He was relieved to see that she was standing, staring out of the window and still damp from her soak.  She looked comfortable dressed in a tank top and sleeping pants.

Mac heard Harm enter the room.  She continued to stare out the window, arms folded and emotions tightly clamped down.  

Harm saw that she was not ready to talk.  Peeling off his clothes down to his undershirt and jeans, he slipped his shoes off and padded over to Mac.  Taking another large risk, he slowly worked his way into her personal space until his chest was against her back.   Her only reaction was to lean a fraction into his chest, so Harm pushed his luck and wrapped his arms around and over hers, tangling their fingers together.  Dropping his forehead against the crown of her head, he paused for a few minutes to enjoy this physical closeness that she had allowed.  The scent of her shampoo lingered, and he let himself relax and remember her scent.

Mac couldn't believe that he could read her mind so well. The one thing that she desperately craved was physical contact with another human being.    The crazy part of this great need was that only Harm would be able to help her, and she had stood there for some time before he came in trying to figure out  how to ask him to hold her. 

They stood there, for many long minutes.  Finally giving in to the temptation to speak, he asked,  "How much sleep have you gotten lately?"

"Enough to survive, but when I have the opportunity to sleep, I can't," Mac said softly. "I tried to sleep after we left the hospital this morning, but I just can't get them out of my head."

Finally, Harm felt like they were getting somewhere.  "What can't you get out of your head?"

"Did you see them?" she asked.

"Bud and Harriet?"  he clarified

"Yes."  Harm waited for a longer answer from her and was rewarded.  "I'm glad I didn't marry Mic.   I don't think either one of us could have done that for the other."

"Done what?"  Harm was a little confused.

"Suppported each other, unconditionally.  Harriet and Bud have been through so much turmoil, with just the normal stuff of both of them being active military and Bud going through and  finishing law school.  Then with Baby Sarah and now this.  How much more can they endure?"  she fumed.

"I don't know, Ninja-girl.  I don't know." Harm soothed.

Mac fell silent again, listening to her inner battle.

"So what is it, in all of this, that has you upset?"  Harm probed.

"I just have this feeling that it has all slipped away. Everything that I thought I wanted, the career, the good man, the kids.  Watching them today, I just had this overwhelming sense of how wrong I had been.  I've been so focused on my career and being a tough Marine in a man's world that I have just absolutely lost the things that were important to me in the beginning."  Mac paused, drawing in a deep breath after her confession.

She continued.  "And the more I thought about it, the more wrong it felt.  Shit, Harm, I feel like I have nobody.  I'm not even a speck in this universe and the loneliness is so vast.  I walked into the O-Club today just to get a drink of water and ended up 3 hours later almost falling off of the wagon again."  

"The most important thing in there is almost, Mac.  You didn't take that drink.  And that is the most important thing."  Harm reassured her.

"I know."  She replied, sighing.

"Mac." Harm began.  "Are you completely over Mic Brumby?"

Mac didn't answer.

Harm felt like an intruder for asking that when she was still so upset.  He started to drop his arms and back off, but she gripped his fingers with hers.

"Don't leave."  She pleaded.

"I stepped over the line again," Harm was contrite. "Your personal business is none of my business."

"I disagree, Harm." She whispered.

"Huh?"  Harm didn't understand.

"My personal business is your concern.  And you have done a pretty good job of showing me that lately."  

"Okay."  Harm didn't trust himself to say much more.

Both were silent for a long time.  Harm slid his hands off of her arms and wrapped them around her waist, resting his hands on her abdomen.  Mac reveled in the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, listening to him breathe and feeling the caress of his hands through the fabric of her tank top.

"You are thinking about something." She playfully accused him later.

"Yes."  Harm admitted.

"Care to share?"  she teased.

"I………..was day-dreaming."  He began.

"It's night, Harm."  She countered, still in less serious frame of mind.  Harm's presence and their physical closeness had relaxed her.

Harm didn't respond.

"Flyboy, are you going to sleep back there?"  

"No." was the whispered response.

"What were you wool-gathering about?"  she insisted.

"The future."  He replied.

"Anything in particular?"  she probed.

"Yes."  Again, only a whisper.

"Is this another "only with you" moment?"  she asked, more seriously.

"Yes."  

"I don't know if I should be upset or flattered."  She began to doubt that he would confess what he was thinking.

"Me, either."  Harm admitted.

More time passed, in comfortable silence.

"You tired?"  she asked.

"Yes."  He replied.

"Sleep with me?"  she asked.

Harm didn't respond.  

"Hey.  Answer."  She demanded.

"I think we're sailing on the Edmund Fitzgerald this time, instead of the Titanic."  He referred to their talk on the Admiral's porch.

"No shipwrecks.  I just……need to be held.  If….that's okay with you."  She whispered to the stars, heart pounding.

He slowly spun her around. Running his hands up her arms again, he tangled his fingers into her short, silky hair.  "Yes.  More than okay.  Anytime you need me, I'll be here."  He promised.  They both had tears in their eyes, threatening to fall.  Harm continued,  "I'll confess about my day-dream once we're settled in."

They broke apart for the final preparations for sleep.  Harm made it to the bed first, pulling the covers back for Mac.  Settling in an embrace, similar to what they had shared at the window, he placed his free hand on her abdomen again.  Unconsciously, he stroked feather light caresses against the exposed skin.

Mac remembered the last time they had touched so much, while attempting to sleep.  Stuck in the boondocks of Afghanistan.  This encounter promised to be less stressful.  Hopefully, they would both get more sleep this time.  She smothered a yawn.

"Comfortable?"  she inquired.

Harm had not dreamed of the contentment simply holding her, fully dressed, would bring.  But halfway dreading his rash comment about the day-dream, he decided to wait a little longer.

"Ummm. Hmmm."  He practically purred.

"Good night, Harm."  Mac was disappointed, but did not let it bother her too much.  This was Harm, the emotional recluse, she was cuddling with.

"Going to sleep already?"  he commented.

"Thinking about it." She countered.

"Can you stay awake a little longer?" he asked.

She yawned again.  "I'll try.  But you seem to be able to put me to sleep." 

They lapsed into silence again.

He continued to caress her skin. "I was dreaming, uh, thinking about if …..no, when we get around……. to that promise we made….. what it would be like if ………our baby was growing right under my hands."  Harm stuttered.

Mac suddenly twisted around to face Harm.  Her tears were falling in a flood now, but she was smiling.  Reaching over the space between them, she kissed him. 

Each was aware of only the taste of the other.  Moving, caressing, touching, giving, receiving.  

Breaking the kiss, she whispered back.  "It would be a wonderous thing."

They smiled at each other, eyes sparkling.  Harm reached up and dried her eyes, then moved in for another kiss.  Again, they cataloged the taste and feel of the other, without fear of discovery or of guilt.

This time, Harm broke the kiss.  "I'd like to make an addendum or two to that contract."

"Only two?"  she smiled brightly, only the starlight illuminating her face.

"Okay, three addendums."  They resumed their cuddling position.

"One at a time, flyboy.  This contract is too important to me."  She tucked herself within his arms.

"Addendum number 1" he began.   "Rings on our fingers.  That we give each other."  

"I agree to that stipulation." She said.

"Addendum number 2"  he continued. "More than 1 baby that we go halves on."

She drowsed in his arms.  "I like that one too, Counselor."

"And number 3,"  he paused.  "The five year time limit is null and void and should be replaced with as soon as possible." 

"Agreed."  She mumbled.

He knew that she was almost asleep.  "Sleep well, my Sarah."

For the first time in a long time, she smiled herself to sleep.

THE END


End file.
